


Trapped with Death

by Eagefrien



Series: Scaretober 2019 [3]
Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: 'time' loops, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Mild Electrocution, alternate plane of existance, in some ways, symbolic environments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24337273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eagefrien/pseuds/Eagefrien
Summary: In a strange event, Arthur wakes up alone with a wraith trying to kill him.Being watched, by Death themself.
Relationships: Arthur & Lewis (Mystery Skulls Animated)
Series: Scaretober 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756990
Kudos: 24





	1. Human sheild

Above all else, there’s a tense silence. Neither person spoke, focused only on the other. Taking in their facial features and body language, gauging each other based on the small actions and twitches of their hand. **  
**

How exactly did _Death_ expect either to respond. One a towering spectator with a thirst for blood and a coward dressed in yellow. 

The walls exudes a sinister scent. Nearly frigid. 

The specter- _Lewis_ glares at Arthur, doing nothing to conceal the fury burning in them. Infact- their fists smoked and burned, their plates of bone glowing pink. Resisting every temptation to subject Arthur to the peril they planned. 

The only reason Arthur wasn’t burnt to a crisp right there-

Was because Death forbade it.

 _Death_ , Arthur swallows tightly, blinking back a shudder as he thinks back to the numbing void outside of the walls, _an all powerful being who- for some reason- patiently waits for all the souls to return to them. The one who brought both him and the dead spectator into its walls._

_Why… is it because this spectator wants to kill him?_

Arthur didn’t know how much of that glare he could handle. 

“S-So…” Arthur swallows, remembering how Death _promised_ that no harm shall come to Arthur within their home, but this is a risk sigh the probability of a bomb exploding, but he needed to know, “Why are you after us…?” 

The spectator blinks, pink rings flaming. The fire within them growing by the pinkish glow now coming into their sockets. Muscles tightening, it speaks, **“You have a lot of nerve to ask such a thing, Arthur.”**

Voice gravely, echoing and sharp, the familiarity punches Arthur in the gut. It was so close to Lewis… ~~Please don’t do this to me~~ And yet, the only thing Arthur can ask himself is _Why does it know his name?_

“Is it?” Arthur challenges shakily, “you’ve been following us for a while. Are you - you’re after _me_ at least, right?” 

**”Who else?”** It snaps.

 _Don’t flinch, Arthur. Don’t flinch. Stay strong_.

“The girl.”

 **”Vivi,”** _Fuck it knows HER name too?_ **”I must say, I’m horribly disappointed in you. Disrespecting her that way.”** The ghost scowls- _seems_ to, and Arthur can’t help his flinch. 

“If you know anything about the world of supernaturals, then you know the importance of a name.” 

Eyes widen, the spectator tenses, now anxious and … embarrassed? _Holy shit did I actually manage to one up them??_

They also notice Arthur’s victory, **”Fine. _Whatever.”_** hissing, the flame of his hair ignites, growing tall and gaseous, **”You’re correct, I have business with you first and foremost.”**

“O-kay!” His spine strains from tension, “Well. Uh- who _are_ you?”

**”You know who I am.”**

Arthur bites his lip, swallowing back, “Mmm… no, no I don’t. Unless it’s from a case that I _forgot!_ Then maybe?” He shrugs, really _really_ hoping that the spectator doesn’t break its one restriction. 

**_”Excuse me?”_ **

_Should he say this? Should he really- oh well!_ “We- we lost our memories a while ago! A lot of past cases are completely gone for me, and - _Vi_ doesn’t even remember one of our members or-“

 **”Which.”** They take a step closer to him, _far too close than Arthur would have liked._

They’re practically chest to chest, and Arthur needs to strain his neck to look past their tie. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to say it, share this crucial information with someone so _dangerous_.

“Our best friend. He went missing the same night we lost our memorie- _AH!”_

When they snatched his wrist, Lightning bolts shoot through his arm. Amplified by the metal joints twisting under the iron grip of the spectator. His wrist now arms length away forcing Arthur impossibly close.

_“S-stop..”_

**”Why should I? Your _best friend is missing?_ You _coward!_ Parading around like you’re innocent! And you feigning ignorance won’t get you anywhere, you knew who I was in the cave, so what’s ** _**different?”** _

The shooting ripples of pain rocket through Arthur’s arm, electrifying his fingers and frying the nerves of his shoulder, but it was far easier to deal with in comparison to the heart pounding anxiety coursing through the rest of him. 

_The chase, the drive. Each horrible second of running down that horrifically warm cavern, met only to the blood stained, magenta burnt stalagmites that seared themselves to his memory. Overlapped with the horrible night where Lewis’s screams echoed through every wall. Where the only thing he felt was a cold numbness and endless agony._

_What was different? What WAS different?_

Voice strained and shrieking, Arthur squints through the tears, “Stop it! Death will-“ 

**”I’m already _DEAD,_ Arthur! I fell to your hand, why do you keep running from the truth-?!”** _Lewis’s_ burning scalp burst into flame, melting away to reveal the same face Arthur winced at many times before- from photographs, to missing photos, to voicemails, to the _cave._

_NO! NO NO NO- DONT-!_

His grip didn’t falter. 

##  **_“Lewis, have you already forgotten our deal?”_ **

Lewis’s grip on his arm releases, allowing Arthur to tumble back- landing on his ass and pinning his metallic arm to his side, praying he could make the electrical sparks hurt any less. So much so that he completely missed the _parental tone_ whispering in his ear. Soothing him with comforting words and encouraging him to- 

Not thinking straight, Arthur lets his metal arm fall numb- ignoring its jittery sparks- and reaches to his prosthetic shoulder. Disengaging the locks far quicker than he should have been able to. 

None of those thoughts came to mind, not until the arm clatters to the floor, and Arthur is left weak and gasping and sobbing from the electrifying burns encapsulating his bones and heart.

##  **_“Didn’t I make my conditions clear, Lewis Pepper? Bring you two here, to allow you both peace. And yet, you’ve broken my only rule. What do you have to say for yourself?”_ **

Arthur does his best to not fall over, the horrible pain barely subsiding and offering any leeway for him. 

In fact, if he didn’t hold his breath, he wouldn’t have heard Death’s voice surrounding him. 

Something grazes his fried shoulder, what felt like a hand. Anywhere it’s palm rubs, a soothed feeling simply… took the pain. Relaxed his heart. Brought the overwhelming thoughts to a soft hum and not a powerful shriek. 

Allowed him the strength to turn back and see what scene had taken shape around them. 

No longer was their wall paper and stained glass murals on the wall, instead, everything took on a much more… angelic appearance. Each wall covered in faintly drawn eyes, all blinking and focusing on them all. 

##  _**”I must say, I am disappointed in you.”** _

**”And?”** Lewis dared, and it became noticeably more twisted, long, draping wings of all kinds lining the walls like curtains. 

And for once, Arthur wasn’t fearful. 

But Lewis sure was.

Crouched over on himself, Arthur blearily glances around the new interior of the room. Everything was reflective, and thus shone a brilliant purple and pink as Lewis’s flame lit up their surroundings. 

Lewis was… closer to him. Arthur didn’t even realize it at first until he realized he was trapped in the immense shadow towering over him, but Lewis’s back was turned to him. 

The golden heart, at Arthur’s side. 

Breathlessly, Arthur switches from the golden- _brilliantly_ beating heart, and Lewis’s furious stance- his shoulders tense and feet planted apart, both fists clenched and enveloped in fire and burning flames. 

_Why…_

**“Who are you? Why do you stop me?”** Lewis demands, his voice and anchor crack in equal measure. 

Arthur grabs it, confused and compelled, the fear radiating from it drew him closer. _Maybe this can give us an advantage..? Maybe-_

The wings bristle, puffing up, and Arthur shudders. A warm wind washing over them. An even calmer chuckle tickling his ears. 

##  _**"Oh Lewis, you misunderstand. You too perished far too early, and that is why I wish to do everything I can for you to get the justice you deserve. But Arthur, is innocent. In terms that he did not commit the act of judgment, but one of my own."** _

The stained glass dyes red. And all at once, the walls, glass, and floor, shatter.


	2. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a sudden terror, Arthur finally wakes up, alone...

Arthur’s breathing wasn’t ragged. He wasn’t conscious- no, but he was stuck. Trapped in his own mind, surrounded by his own thoughts that grew jittered and jumbled and lost meaning faster than he could catch on.

And at the same time, he was completely at peace. A warmth surrounded his entire body, and no matter how much his chest raggedly rose, Arthur never fell off the deep end and into the great abyss that was his lingering anxiety. 

How long had he been asleep for? 

Great question. If he had to guess, a few hours. 

But in Deaths realm, that could translate to centuries.

And in the deep spirals of Arthur’s long memory - dating back to the day of his birth- one memory in particular stuck out.

The shattering of a thousand shards. Lewis’s- _it had to be him.._ \- fear. The tall, looming shadow of Death themself.

Lewis was being punished for hurting him, wasn’t he? 

Arthur could only hope he wasn’t- but nothing else would make sense. The other mass of the skeletal figure dropped to the floor, dragged across and into the arms similar to jaws.

…

Was it Lewis..? 

Arthur shifts in his sleep, maybe rolling over, maybe stretching, maybe something completely different. But along with it- he couldn’t stop his mind from making small comparisons.

Lewis has anger issues, _apparently._

The man had a patience of a saint and the love to fuel a million farms- however that worked- everyone could feel the happiness and joy radiate from him everyday. Arthur couldn’t ever recall a moment in his life where Lewis was angry enough to be cruel- to directly harm someone else. 

Hurting was reserved for only the worst beings. The worst and snarling spirits who threatened to disembowel and ravage cities. 

Was it really the same Lewis? 

Based on that alone, anyone would have said it wasn’t. Lewis wasn’t like that. 

But it felt so familiar. His voice, the way he stood and how he guarded Arthur in the face of Death before being dragged away.

Arthur could feel it in his heart even. That was Lewis, it had to be.

A tremor ripples up his spine. Arthur’s body becoming alert and awake. Tingles taking hold of his limbs. Growing faster and more intense. Growing increasingly more noticeable how _warm_ he was. Sweat lining his back and arm. Legs jolting. 

And he was awake. Eyes popping open and his lungs filled with a gasp, burning his throat and tickling the back of his throat. 

Coughing roughly, Arthur forces himself up. His face buried in the crook of his arm, curled over himself and wrenching until he could finally breath. 

He was drenched in sweat. A quick swipe across his forehead confirming that fact. Pulling back his hand, Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, there being so much more liquid than he expected-

“… What…?” Arthur mumbled to himself, barely processing the sweltering heat surrounding him, until he sat up more. The sweat slicked against his back and it felt like it poured down his skin, Arthur’s face scrunches in disgust. Tearing off his insufferably puffy vest, his wrist bands, his shirt- anything that touched his skin was removed immediately, discarded against the equally soaked sheets and the unnecessary amount of blankets. Staring at the crumpled mess, Arthur grimaces. 

“Okay- that’s disgusting..” he mumbles to himself, noticing immediately that the heat was still horribly oppressive. _This would kill him. He’s going to die here from heatstroke._

Twisting his head back, Arthur’s gaze switches from wall to wall, before finally landing on one distinct wall. 

Stained glass shapes, triangles and squares, stained various colors of blue and green. The color combo emits a clear ring, and shone brilliantly. Various parts taking its turn to glow, until Arthur finally settles on one aspect. 

The triangles were green, sharply marking the edges and stabbing inward. The very center being a strange bundle of shapes and designs. Vaguely revealing a human shape. 

Someone falling. 

Transfixed, Arthur stares. 

Sickened, tremors run along his spine.

_Falling. Someone falling. Falling into spikes. Blood. Blood everyone. Blood on hands. Blood below. Hands. Hands hands hands- Your fault. Your fault. Your fault._

_**Your fault.** _

__

Arthur gasps, mind going blank and eyes widening, slapping his hand across his chest. Kickstarting his coughing spurt and jolting him awake. Shoving himself up, he gasps. Each breath straining him further and further, ripping warm gulps of blood- no water- AIR, down. 

Gripping his shirt- trying to, Arthur claws his chest, tearing across it and leaving red angry scrapes in its wake. 

A pound bursts in his ears, louder than the ever present ring shrilling in his head. Emphasizing the headache thumping against his forehead. Trying to claw its way out. 

Gaping around the room, Arthur’s eyes land on the same green mural, the same form- now painted purple. 

Arthur’s mind stalls, he whips his head back and forces his mind elsewhere. Instead it was swarmed in static and fuzz, filling his entire head like cotton.

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out, not even bile, not even spit. Only screams. 

So much screaming. Echoing in his head and the room and crescendoing until it’s far too loud to even process letters. 

Nothing except for mind numbing panic. 

Arthur wakes up. But it’s different. 

There’s silence. Only silence. His heartbeat so distant yet so intense it pulsates through his whole chest. 

It hurts. But he can’t move. 

It’s so jarring. 

The heat is still there. 

The stained glass was everywhere, even the ceiling. But it’s different. 

There’s pink, it’s moving. It’s staring at him. Arthur can’t see it’s eyes but he knows it’s staring at him. 

And it’s dark, the space above the blue stained glass, it was empty, except for the large mass moving. 

Next, Arthur finally notices the pounding. It’s not his heart, it’s the thing- person. The space lights up, and the glass mural is overturned into a screen of gradients, made of pink and purples and sharper blues and no greens.

The light dies down. And bursts again. 

Again. Again. Again.

It’s almost entrancing.

….

_Where is he? What is that?_

….

_Is it Lewis?_

….

_Why?_

…. 

He didn’t remember falling asleep. 

But he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have been able to tell but a lot of these stories from spooktober are kinda....... weird! And sorta disjointed. My dearest apologies haha


End file.
